Equestrian Pageantry in Tudor and Stuart Times

by Margaret Porter



William Cavendish, 1st Duke of Newcastle

The basis of equestrian pageantry began with Xenophon of Athens, who first codified the movements. His treatise On Equitation (circa 400 BC) was first printed in 1512, inspiring centuries of artistic horsemanship, the origin of modern-day dressage. It was then referred to as the Art of Manège, or High School Riding. Riding academies were founded--initially in Italy and Spain. Over time the horse trainer, noble rider, choreographer, composer, and costumier united to develop a popular and exclusive entertainment. During the Renaissance, horse ballets or carrousels rose to prominence at European royal courts, eventually replacing jousting tournaments. A carrousel featured a mock battle, with group manueuvres, quadrilles, and individual feats showcasing elements of the balancing, leaping, jumping, and flying 'airs above the ground': the levade, croupade, courbette, ballotade, and capriole.

England

English royalty preferred court masques to carrousels. But everyone liked a clever horse and rider. The common people tended to prefer low comedy to balletic grace.

Marocco & William Baknes

Marocco, sometimes referred to as Bankes's horse, was the most famous dancing horse of the Renaissance. Born 1586, he was alternately described as a bay, a chestnut, or white. Petite and well-muscled, he was extremely agile, intelligent, and easily trained. His owner, William Bankes of Staffordshire, took his marvel to London. Marocco's initial performances took place in Gracechurch Street, and he was later stabled at the Belle Sauvage Inn and performed there. Marocco, who wore silver horseshoes, could dance a jig, count, play dead, walk on his back legs, and urinate on command. He could also identify which ladies in his audience were sluts, and which were virtuous. He made his bow to Queen Elizabeth I. And he bared his teeth at King Philip of Spain. John Donne and Shakespeare knew of Marocco (there's a reference in Love's Labours Lost) and almost certainly witnessed performances similar to this:

Banks perceiving, to make the people laugh, saies; 'seignior,' to his horse, 'go fetch me the veryest foole in the company.' The jade comes immediately, and with his mouth drawes Tarlton [a famous clown and comedian] forth. Tarlton with merry words, said nothing but, 'God a mercy, horse.' In the end Tarlton, seeing the people laugh so, was angry inwardly, and said: 'Sir, had I power of your horse as you have, I would doe more than that.' 'What ere it be,' said Banks, to please him, 'I will charge him to do it.' 'Then,' said Tarleton: 'charge him bring me the veriest whore-master in the company.' The horse leades his master to him. Then 'God a mercy horse indeed,' saies Tarlton. (1611)

The horse was immortalised in various verses. One example:

Bankes hath a horse of wondrous qualitie
For he can fight, and pisse, and daunce, and lie,
And finde your purse, and tell what coyne ye have:
But Bankes, who taught your horse to smell a knave?

In 1601 he performed his greatest feat, climbing the thousand steps to perform on the rooftop of St. Paul's Cathedral--the medieval one, not the Christopher Wren one with the dome. After touring England and visiting Scotland, he travelled to Europe. In Paris he caused such a sensation that Bankes was accused of sorcery, and to save himself revealed that he controlled the horse primarily through hand gestures. Marocco performed in Germany and travelled as far as Portugal. Returning to England, Bankes worked as a trainer in the royal stables during James I's reign, and also trained the Duke of Buckingham's horses.


Bankes's acquaintance Gervase Markham produced A Discourse on Horsemanship (1593), in which he writes of 'that most excellent and prayse worthie gyft, the breeding and ryding and trayning uppe of horses.' In his multi-volume Cavelarice: Or the English Horseman (1608) dedicated to Prince Henry, James I's son and containing William Bankes's secrets for training Marocco. Markham attributes human emotions to horses, stating, 'It is most certaine that everie horse is possest with these passions: love, joy, hate, sorrow and feare.' He also charts the different 'humours' during the lifetime of the horse as it matures: 'Now these tempers do alter, as the powers of a horse either increase or diminish, as thus, a Foale is said to have his temper from the Fire and Ayre, a horse of middle age from the Fire and the Earth, and a horse of the old age from the Earth and the Water.'



1st Duke of Newcastle

William Cavendish, the polymath First Duke of Newcastle was one of the great riders of his age. Margaret Cavendish, his duchess and biographer, describes the admiration his riding excited at the English court, where was responsible for the education of the future King Charles II. In that role imparted his riding skills to the then-Prince of Wales:

But not only strangers but his Majesty himself, our now gracious Sovereign, was pleased to see my Lord ride, and one time did ride himself, he being an excellent master of that art, and instructed by my Lord, who had the honour to set him first on a horse of manage when he was his governor [instructor, tutor]...his Majesty's capacity was such that being but ten years of age he would ride leaping horses and such as would overthrow others and manage them with the greatest skill and dexterity to the admiration of all that beheld him.

A firm and devoted Royalist, Newcastle spent Interregnum on the Continent. In Antwerp, where he occupied the house associated with painter Peter Paul Rubens, he established a riding school. Then, and later, he published books on horsemanship and established his famous riding-school, exercised 'the art of manège' (High School riding), and published his first work on horsemanship, Méthode et invention nouvelle de dresser les chevaux (1658). After the Restoration and his return to England, he published A New Method and Extraordinary Invention to Dress Horses and Work them according to Nature (1667).

He was not humble about his abilities and their effect upon spectators:

The Marquess of Caracena was so civilly earnest to see me ride that he was pleased to say it would be a great satisfaction to him to see me on horseback, though the horse should but walk...he came to my manage [manège] and I rid first a Spanish horse called Le Superbe, of a light bay a beautiful horse, and though hard to be rid yet when he was hit right he was the readiest horse in the world. He went in corvets forward backward sideways on both hands made the cross perfectly upon his voltoes and did change upon his voltoes, so just without breaking time that a musician could not keep time better, and went terra a terra [terre-á-terre] perfectly. The second horse I rid was another Spanish called Le Genty, and was rightly named so for he was the finest-shaped horse that ever I saw...no horse ever went terra a terra like him so just and so easy and for the piroyte [pirouette] in his length so just and so swift, that the standers by could hardly see the rider's face...truly when he had done I was so dizzy that I could hardly sit in the saddle. The third and last horse I rid then was a Barb that went...very high both forward and upon his voltoes and terra a terra. And when I had done riding, the Marquess of Caracena seemed to be very well-satisfied, and some Spaniards that were with him crossed themselves and cried 'Miraculo!'

France

Grand  Carrousel, 1662

Many English aficionados of equestrian skill were exposed to the carrousel at the French court. Antoine de Pluvinel (1555-1620), a well-born Frenchman, studied equitation and other subjects in Italy, returned to found an academy at Faubourg St. Honore. He served as chief instructor, or gouveneur, to the Dauphin, the future Louis XIII, and his precepts for riding were published in The Maneige Royal, or L'Instruction du Roy (1623), written as a dialogue between master and pupil. In 1612, Pluvinel devised a fifteen-minute carrousel celebrating the marriage of ten-year-old Louis and Anne of Austria.

Like father, like son. The 1662 Grand Carrousel at the Tuileries, performed over two days, celebrated the birth of the Dauphin, son of Louis XIV. It was a grand display of the young King's power and splendour. Louis participated, as did the royal dukes. The riders and their horses were elaborately costumed, and the characters were allegorical and representative in nature--Romans, Turks, famous warriors from history. Teams of participants, each led by a duke or the king, performed this ballet to music created by the court composer Lully. The horses' decorations alone cost one hundred thousand livres. Though not English by birth, England's Dowager Queen, Henrietta Maria, witnessed her nephew's performance.


Louis XIV in Le Grand Carrousel

Monsieur, the King's brother

In May 1686, the two-day Carrousel des Galantes Amazones was held at Versailles. All the most important people received tickets, including the English ambassador, Sir William Trumbull, and his wife. The story depicted was that of Alexander the Great (portrayed by the now adult Dauphin) and the Amazon Queen Thalestris (the Duchess of Bourbon). This was the first time ladies appeared in a carrousel, and all, men and women, were spectacularly attired in costumes by Jean Berain.

Carrousel des Amazones at Versailles, 1686

The King's Champion

After every English coronation, an elaborate banquet was served to the participants, and it included a unique and historic ceremony involving equestrian spectacle. A designated 'King's Champion' (or Queen's) mounted on a steed, rode into Westminster Hall and dared anyone to challenge the new ruler's right to succeed. For more than six hundred years members of the Dymock family held this position, although the George IV coronation in 1821 was the occasion that a Dymock was called on to perform his hereditary role, described thus in 1660:

...to have on the Coronation day one of the King's great coursers with a saddle harness and trappings of cloth of gold and one of the best suits of armour with cases of cloth of gold, and all such other things appertaining to the King's body...if he was going into mortal battel. And on the Coronation day to be mounted on the said courser ...being accompanied by the High Constable and Marshal of England and the King's Herald with a trumpet sounding before him to come riding into the Hall to the place where the King sits at dinner with the crown on his head...to proclaim with an audible voice these words following...that if any person of whatsoever degree he be, either high or low, will deny or gainsay that Charles the Second King of England Scotland France and Ireland son and next heir of our late sovereign Lord Charles the First deceased defender of the faith... ought not to enjoy the crown thereof here is his Champion ready by his body to assert and maintain that he lyes like A false traitor, and in that quarrel to adventure his life on any day that shall be assigned him. And thereupon the said Champion throws down his gauntlet, and in case no man shall say that he is ready in that quarrel to combat then as hath been usually done at all former Coronations of Kings and Queens of this realm...



James II's Champion (British Museum)

Conclusion

The famed Royal Lippizzans of Vienna's Spanish Riding School are modern equivalents of the dancing horses of centuries past, as are the Olympians in the dressage competitions in the Summer Games. Modern groups recreate versions of carrousels that were seen by Henrietta Maria, Charles II, and their kinsmen Louis XIII and Louis XIV, and French courtiers. The one I attended in Brussels is an indelible memory. A video of a similar performance is here. A section of Lully's music for the Grand Carrousel can be heard here.

This is an Editor's Choice from the #EHFA archives, originally published December 15, 2016.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

Margaret Porter is the award-winning and bestselling author of twelve period novels, whose other publication credits include nonfiction and poetry. The Carrousel des Amazones is the setting for a scene in A Pledge of Better Times, her highly acclaimed novel of 17th century courtiers Lady Diana de Vere and Charles Beauclerk, 1st Duke of St. Albans.

Margaret studied British history in the UK and the US. As historian, her areas of speciality are social, theatrical, and garden history of the 17th and 18th centuries, royal courts, and portraiture. A former actress, she gave up the stage and screen to devote herself to fiction writing, travel, and her rose gardens.

Connect with Margaret:

Website
Blog
Facebook
Twitter
Amazon

Grosvenor Chapel

By Lauren Gilbert


Current Exterior of Grosvenor Chapel

St. George’s, Hanover Square was (and still is) the most venerable church in Mayfair, the most fashionable district of London by the end of the 18th century. This district was home to the bluest of blood. Consequently, St. George’s, Hanover Square was the chief site of baptisms, burials and, most importantly, weddings for the highest society in London during the Georgian era and beyond. (Over 1000 marriages were conducted there in 1816 alone.) Grosvenor Chapel, located nearby at 24 South Audley Street, is not as well known.



Sir Thomas Grosvenor, 3rd Baronet


Sir Thomas Grosvenor, 3rd Baronet, was the head of a family long established in Cheshire, whose wealth came primarily from Welsh mines. He significantly increased that wealth when he married Mary Davies, the heiress to the Ebury estates in 1677. The property he acquired through this marriage covered a large area of what is now Mayfair, Pimlico and Belgravia. Sir Thomas started building in the 1660s but died July 2, 1700. His son Richard inherited his title, becoming Sir Richard Grosvenor, 4th Baronet. He pursued the development of the Mayfair area, including Grosvenor Square. A church or chapel at the Audley Street location had been considered as early as 1723. He signed a 99-year lease on the property with four builder-proprietors (also referred to as “under-takers”), one of whom was Richard Timbrell, a well-known builder, and the first stone was laid April 7, 1730 by Sir Richard Grosvenor himself. He had previously sold 1 ½ acre of land on Mount St. (neighbouring property) to St. George’s, Hanover Square, for burial purposes, and the original plan required that the vaults under the chapel not be used for burial purposes. The design of the chapel was similar to St. Peter’s, Vere St., which was not surprising considering Richard Timbrell was involved with the construction of both.

The chapel was finished in about a year, two ministers were appointed, and the rector of the parish was petitioned to open the chapel in April of 1731. Originally called the Audley Chapel, the name evolved to the Grosvenor Chapel. The chapel was constructed as a commercial enterprise for the landlords and builder-proprietors based on pew rentals and additional income generated by people moving to the area due to further development. (For example, in 1873, pew rentals at Grosvenor Chapel generated over 1000 pounds for the year.) At some point, in exchange for 500 pounds, Sir Richard gave the rector and churchwardens immediate freehold of the vaults and the land between the chapel and burial grounds, and gave up the rent for the site. In 1732, at Sir Richard’s expense, the original organ was built by Abraham Jordan and installed. Sir Richard died July 12, 1732.

A font was installed in 1790. Residents in the neighbourhood attended services, and the chapel was frequently used as a burial chapel. When the lease expired in 1829, the chapel was brought under the parochial system, and the freehold of the chapel itself reverted to the parish. By this time, the chapel was in poor condition, so extensive repairs and some changes were initiated. The Act of 1831 caused Grosvenor Chapel to be consecrated as a chapel of ease to St George’s, Hanover Square. This allowed the rector to appoint the priest in charge (also called the perpetual curate) to serve the congregation. Evan Nepean was the first minister so appointed, and he served at Grosvenor Chapel until his death in 1873. St. George’s benefited by having additional space for the congregation, as the seating in St. George’s was limited to approximately 1200 souls, in a district which housed roughly 36,000 people by 1850. Grosvenor Chapel added almost 1000 seats to St. George’s communicants.



Interior-note font to the left

In 1841, the font was replaced. Additional building and repairs were started in 1873 by R. H. Burden. In 1877, the pulpit was made smaller and moved from the center to the side, box pews were cut down to benches, and choir stalls were installed. Rebuilding the entire chapel was proposed but the Duke of Westminster refused to entertain the project. (Over time, the Grosvenor family were further ennobled; in 1874, the head of the family was made Duke of Westminster, the title being created by Queen Victoria. The Grosvenor family still owned land and buildings in Mayfair, and their connection to the chapel was maintained.) The churchyard at the rear of the chapel (land originally sold to be St. George’s burial ground) became a public garden in 1899, now known at the Mount Street Gardens. Significant renovations to the interior were proposed, and some carried out between 1890-1920, and the organ was reconstructed and enlarged by J. W. Walker and sons and moved in 1930. Exterior work was done in 1951-52, 1966 and 1969. A new organ was installed in the original Georgian organ case in 1990.


View of organ

The pew rent books were lost, so few of the regular congregants during the Georgian era are known. However, Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington, was known to have attended services at Grosvenor Chapel regularly. His parents, the 1st Earl and Countess of Mornington, were buried there (the earl in 1781 and the countess in 1831). The walls have numerous memorial tablets. Burials in the chapel include Lady Mary Wortley Montague in 1762, Lord Chesterfield in 1773, and John Wilkes (the radical MP) in 1797. Ehrengard Melusine von der Schulenburg (mistress of George I) was also buried here in 1743. The vaults were sealed in the 19th century, so are no longer accessible for burials.


Wall monument

The chapel continues to offer services as chapel at ease to St. George’s, Hanover Square, serving nearby residents and members of Parliament. American troops stationed in Britain during World War II, including General Dwight D. Eisenhower, attended there, and the chapel continues to be popular with American tourists and visitors from other countries as well as other parts of London.


Sources include:

Callendar, Ann, ed. GODLY MAYFAIR. (London: Grosvenor Chapel, 1980).

British History Online. “South Audley Street-East Side.” HERE

GettyImages.com. ENTERTAINMENT-Elizabeth Taylor Baby Christening-Grosvenor Chapel, London. HERE

The Grosvenor Chapel website. HERE

History of Parliament Online. “Sir Richard Grosvenor, 4th Baronet (1689-1732), of Eaton Hall, Cheshire” by Eveline Cruikshanks. HERE ; “Sir Thomas Grosvenor, 3rd Baronet (1655-1700), of Eaton Hall, Cheshire” by Gillian Hampson and Basil Duke Henning. HERE

ProjectGutenberg.org. Mitten, Geraldine Edith. MAYFAIR, BELGRAVIA AND BAYSWATER

The Fascination of London. Sir Walter Besant, ed. (London: Adam & Charles Black, 1903). HERE

RegencyHistory.net. “St George’s Hanover Square-A Regency History Guide” by Rachel Knowles. Posted September 24, 2015. HERE

All images from Wikimedia Commons.

Exterior-by John Salmon, Creative Commons license, here

Sir Thomas Grosvenor, 3rd Baronet, here

Interior showing font-by John Salmon, Creative Commons license, here

Interior showing organ-by John Salmon, Creative Commons license, here

Interior of wall monument-by John Salmon, Creative Commons license, here

~~~~~~~~~~


Lauren Gilbert holds a degree in English, is a long-time member of the Jane Austen Society of North America, and lives in Florida with her husband.  Her first published book is HEYERWOOD: A Novel.
Her second novel, A RATIONAL ATTACHMENT, is in progress.  Please visit her website here for more information.

An Extravagant Royal Mistress: Nell Gwyn's Silver

by Margaret Porter

In February 1671, King Charles II moved his mistress Nell Gwyn into a newly built brick residence at Pall Mall's western end.

Nell and her sons by King Charles II

The king granted a "long lease under the Crown," but Nell strenuously objected to these terms. She proudly declared that she had always "conveyed [her affections and body] free under the Crown and always would, and would not accept it till it was conveyed free to her by an act of Parliament." The king assented. A large property adjacent to St. James's Park, it boasted seventeen fireplaces and some furniture left by the previous occupant, Lord Scarsdale. The site, now 79 Pall Mall, is marked by a Blue Plaque denoting its association with Nell.

Nell's Blue Plaque

In March 1671, John Evelyn encountered King Charles outside his queen's rooms at Whitehall and left this immortal account of his reluctant encounter with the royal mistress:

I thence walk'd with him thro' St. James;s Parke to the garden, where I both saw and heard a very familiar discourse between [him]...and Mrs. Nellie as they cal'd an impudent comedian, she looking ouf of her garden on a terrace at the top of the wall, and [he]... standing on the green walke under it. I was heartily sorry at this scene.

At about this time Nell was being painted by Peter Lely, depicted as Venus with her year-old son Charles (as yet lacking surname or title) kneeling beside her, head bowed, in the guise of Cupid. Nell placed the portrait in her salle des miroirs (hall of mirrors).

Nell in the nude. Private collection.

By the time her second son James was born on Christmas Day, ten months after moving into her new residence, Nell had a rival for His Majesty's affections: Louise de Kerouaille, placed at the English court by King Louis XIV of France, who bore the king's son in July, 1672. A year later he bestowed on her the title Duchess of Portsmouth and provided lavish apartments in Whitehall Palace. Competition between the mistresses seems to have included precious metals as well as the monarch's affection. When word circulated that a silversmith was making a costly dinner service, the king's gift to his French mistress, Londoners visited the shop to stare at these objects and "throw out curses against the duchess." Some declared that the silver should be melted and poured down Louise's throat. And everyone believed that "it was a thousand pities His Majesty had not bestowed this bounty on Madam Ellen." Nell purchased her own dinner service of solid silver, engraved with the initials E.G. (for her full name, Ellen or Eleanor Gwyn) and paid £60 for "a dozen silver trencher plates."

The absence of any payment for Nell's double-blade silver-handle fruit knife may confirm the legend that it was given by Charles II. Its silver blade was used to cut oranges, and the steel blade was used for non-acidic fruit.

Nell's fruit knife. Private Collection.

Not content with her gleaming tableware, Nell also commissioned a silver bed, and received this bill from silversmith John Coques in 1674:

Delivered the head of ye bedstead weighing 885 ounces 12lb. and I have received 636 ounces 15 dweight so that there is over and above of me owne silver two hundred forty-eight ounces 17 dweight at 7s. l1d. per ounce . . .which comes to £98 10s. 2d.
For ye making of ye 636 ounces 15 d't at 2s. 11d. per ounce comes to £92 17s. 3d.

Delivered ye kings head weighing 197oz 5dwt
one figure weighing 445oz 15dwt
ye other figure with ye character weighing 428oz 5dwt
ye slaves and ye rest belonging unto it 255oz
ye two Eagles weighing 169oz 10dwt
one of the crowns weighing 94oz 5dwt
ye second crowne weighing 97oz 10dwt
ye third crowne weighing 90oz 2dwt
ye fourth crowne weighing 82oz
one of ye Cupids weighing 121oz 8dwt
ye second boye weighing 101oz 10dwt
ye third boye weighing 93oz 15dwt
ye fourth boye weighing 88oz 17dwt
Altogether two thousand two hundred sixty five ounces 2d. weight of sterling silver at 8s.per ounce comes to £906 0s. 10d.
Paid for ye Essayes of ye figures and other things into ye Tower £0 5s. 0d.

Paid for Jacob Hall dancing upon ye rope of wire-work £110 0d.
For ye cleansing and burnishing a sugar box, a pepper box, a mustard pot, and two kruyzes £0 12s. 0d.
For mending ye greatte silver andirons £0 10s. 0d.
Paid to ye cabinet-maker for ye greatte board for ye head of the bedstead and for ye other board that comes under it and boring the holes into ye (bedstead) head £3 0s. 0d.

Paid to Mr Consar for carving ye said board £10 0s. 0d.
For ye bettering ye solder wich was in the old bedstead £5 3s. 7d.
Paid to ye smith for ye two iron hoops and for ye 6 iron bars, krampes, and nails £1 5s. 0d.
Paid for ye woodden pedestal for one of ye figures £0 4s. 6d.
Paid ye smith for a hook to hang up a branche candlestick £0 2s. 0d.
Paid to ye smith for ye bars, kramps and nails to hold up ye slaves £0 5s. 0d.

Given to my journeyman by order of Madame Guinne £1 0s. 0d.
Paid to ye smith for ye ironwork to hold up ye Eagles and for ye two hooks to hold the bedstead against the wall £0 3s. 0d.
Paid for ye pedestal of ebony to hold up the 2 georses £1 10s. 0d.
For ye mending of y gold hourglass £0 2s. 6d.
Delivered 2 silver bottles weighing 37oz 17dwt at 8s. per ounce comes to £15 2s. 9d.
Paid for ye other foot to hold up ye other figure £0 4s. 6d.
For soldering ye holes and for repairing, mending ,and cleansing the two figures of Mr Traherne his making £3 0s. 0d.
For ye making of a crowne upon one of ye figures £10 0s. 0d.
Given to my journeyman by order of Madame Guinne £1 0s. 0d.
Delivered a handle of a knife weighing 11dwt more then ye old one which comes with ye making of it to £0 5s. 10d.
For ye cleansing of eight pictures £0 10s. 0d.
In all comes to £1135 3s. 1d.
 



The silversmith's bill.

The total is estimated to be £100-150,000 in modern currency. The symbolism of the figures adorning the bed is clear. The king's head, described by a descendant of Nell's as weighing the same as "a fully grown cat," and coronet represent her lover, the provider of house and the funds with which she purchase the magnificent bed. It is supposed that her sons were models for the cherubs or "boyes". The motif of slaves provides an exotic element, one that recurred in Restoration plays. Eagles and crowns stand for power. Most surprising of all is the figure of rope-dancer Jacob Hall balancing on a wire--he was one of Barbara Castlemaine's reputed lovers. Clearly an existing bed was re-fitted, and its structure and supports are clarified by references to the cabinetmaker who provided the headboard, the man who carved it, and the smith responsible for the ironmongery involved in its assembly. Iron hooks were necessary to secure the bedstead to the wall.

A bed so grand required an equally grand setting, so Nell hired carvers, furniture makers, and an upholsterer to improve her bedroom. The woodwork featured her E.G. monogram, window seats were added, curtained with satin. These improvements were completed by August 1675. The work must have created dust and dirt enough to spoil the windows, because she had them re-glazed. The glass came from Normandy, the finest in that period, cut into small individual panes.

By this time Nell's income was £4000 per year, paid quarterly, increasing to £5000 after her son Charles was ennobled as the Duke of St. Albans. Unlike other mistresses, whose child support payments went to trustees, Nell directly received the monies for her son's maintenance--one biographer believes this was because she was the only one deemed trustworthy enough to actually spend the money on her children. She had a supplementary Irish pension and received occasional monetary gifts--one funded her bedchamber's refurbishment.

In late 1678, Nell's house was robbed. On January 3, this advertisement appeared in the London Gazette:

All goldsmiths and others to whom our silver plate may be sold, marked with the cipher E.G., flourished, weighing about 18 ounces, are desired to apprehend the bearer thereof, till they give notice to Mr Robert Johnson, in Heathcock Alley, Strand, over against Durham Yard, or to Mrs Gwin's porter in the Pell Mell, by whom they shall be rewarded.

Notice of Nell's stolen silver in the London Gazette.

It is not recorded whether these items were recovered and the reward paid. But it was the hated Louise, Duchess of Portsmouth, who had the lion's share of silver furniture. On October 4, 1683, John Evelyn--fated to find himself in the company of the King's lewd women--reports:

Following His Majesty through thro' the galleries, I went...into the Dutchesse of Portsmouth's dressing room within her bedchamber, where she was in her morning loose garment, her maids combing her, newly out of her bed...but that which engag'd my curiosity was the rich and splendid furniture of this woman's apartment . . . plate, tables, stands, chinmey furniture, sconces, branches (candelabra), braseras (braziers), &c. all of massive silver, and out of number.

Ten years after taking delivery of her silver bed, Nell was selling certain items of silver, to be melted down, to cover her recent expenditures. As she related in a letter to one Madam Jennings: "The bill is very dear to boil the plate, but necessity hath no law."

She retained many valuables when she died, probably in that great silver bed. Her will, made a few months before her death in 1687, references "all manner of my jewels, plate, household stuff, goods, chattels, credit, and other estate whatsoever, I gave and bequeath the same...by way of trust for my said dear son...for his own sole use and peculiar benefit and advantage." Although she bequeathed her only surviving son and heir diamonds, jewels, plate, artwork, three houses (in London, Windsor, Nottinghamshire), and lesser property, mostly she left him debts. Much of her silver was held by the bankers Child & Co. as a pledge towards her overdraft. Some time after the young Duke of St. Albans came of age and before his marriage to Lady Diana de Vere, daughter of the 20th Earl of Oxford, he sold the Pall Mall house and much of his mother's jewellery. The eventual sale of her plate brought £3,791.5s.9d. A silver teapot remained with the family until 1786.

The duke's 2-piece silver spirits flask, engraved with his coat of arms, is displayed in the Victoria & Albert Museum. There's no evidence that his mother commissioned it, but she might have done in her last year. It's exactly the sort of costly personal item she loved to bestow on the beloved son who far outranked her.

The Duke of St. Albans's spirits flask

Nell's legend endures, and history remembers her as a woman endowed with wit, beauty, spirit, humour, affection--and extravagant tastes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

Margaret Porter is the award-winning and bestselling author of twelve period novels, whose other publication credits include nonfiction and poetry. Nell Gwyn's son is a primary character in A Pledge of Better Times, her highly acclaimed novel of 17th century courtiers Lady Diana de Vere and Charles Beauclerk, 1st Duke of St. Albans. Margaret studied British history in the UK and the US. As historian, her areas of speciality are social, theatrical, and garden history of the 17th and 18th centuries, royal courts, and portraiture. A former actress, she gave up the stage and screen to devote herself to fiction writing, travel, and her rose gardens.

Connect with Margaret:

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon

The Dangerous Duellist: Charles, Baron Mohun

by Margaret Porter

The 4th Baron Mohun

Charles Mohun, the 4th Baron Mohun, was born about 1675 to the 3rd Baron Mohun of Okehampton and his wife Lady Phillipa Annesley. Through the latter the infant was grandson of the 1st Earl of Angelsey, who served as Lord Privy Seal and produced political and religious treatises. Pepys referred to Anglesey as 'one of the greatest knaves in the world,' and during his life little Charles would exceed his grandsire's reputation.



His father had inherited substantial lands in Cornwall and Devon--as well as considerable debts. The marriage to Lady Phillipa was entirely mercenary, she was a termagant, and the union neither prospered nor lasted. Shortly after his heir's birth, the 3rd Baron served as Lord Cavendish's second in a duel with an Irish officer. At the conclusion of the contest Mohun insulted his friend's opponent, resulting in a second swordfight, and the brawling baron died from his severe wounds.
The infant 4th Baron and his two-year old sister Elizabeth were left to the care of a cruel, careless, and quarrelsome mother. His upbringing was hardly the sort to bestow virtue, patience, and manners. Unlike most young men of noble birth, he did not attend university. He married in 1691, aged just fifteen. His bride was Charlotte Orby, his guardian's daughter and the niece of his close friend Lord Macclesfield, and she had no dowry. In November of 1692 she bore a stillborn son.

Several weeks after this distressing event, the sixteen-year old baron fought his first duel. After a night of drinking he quarreled with Lord Kennedy, four years his senior. King William III, hearing of it, feared that a duel might ensue, and commanded both young gentlemen to remain at home. They chose not to obey their monarch's edict. In the course of their battle, each received a minor wound.

Two days later Mohun assisted his closest friend, the equally wild Captain Richard Hill, in the failed abduction of the actress Mrs Bracegirdle. Hill, who regarded actor William Mountfort as his rival for the lady's affection--quite mistakenly--ran him through with a sword late at night in the middle of a London residential street. Hill fled the country. Mohun was arrested. His response: 'Goddamme, I am glad he's not taken, but I am sorry he has no money about him, I wish he had some of mine. I do not care a farthing if I hang for him.'

The magistrates charged him with murder but after a single night in jail his bail was paid and he was released. Judged a flight risk by the House of Lords, he was confined to the Tower of London to await his fate.

In a sensational trial, the House of Lords tried the baron as an accessory to the crime, and in February 1693 he was acquitted and released. Either the weeks of his imprisonment impaired his health, or his celebrations after gaining his freedom, because by October that year it was reported that he 'lies very ill at Bath.' Mountford's outraged widow attempted to appeal what was, from her perspective, a most unjust verdict. Her father had recently been convicted of a capital crime--clipping coins--and by dropping her intended action she was able have her parent sentenced to transportation rather than execution.

Recovered from his ailment and back in London, Mohun returned to form. Drawing his sword against a hackney coachman, he was prevented from slaying the man by a member of Parliament, whom he then challenged to a duel which never actually took place.

Deciding to use his fighting instincts in the service of king and country, he joined the military. On March 10, 1694 the diarist Luttrell records, 'The Lord Mohun is made a captain of a troop of horse in Lord Macclesfield's [sic] regiment.' Three days later he noted, 'The Earl of Macclesfield goes with his majestie to Flanders, as a major general, and the Earl of Warwick and Lord Mohun as volunteers.' Warwick was one of Mohun's cronies, a partner in drinking and debauchery.

Whatever discipline the baron absorbed in the ranks, it didn't improve his behaviour. In spring 1695, he battered a member of the press in a London coffee house. Two years later his next duel took place in St James's Park. His opponent, Captain Bingham, survived the encounter--park keepers intervened--and Mohun sustained a wound to his hand.

In September of that same year, 1697, at the Rummer Tavern in Charing Cross, he engaged in a drunken quarrel with a Captain Hill. This was not the perpetrator of the Mountford murder, but another of that name and rank serving in the Coldstream Guards. Mohun stabbed him and fled; the captain later died. Mohun took refuge in the Earl of Warwick's house, where the constables seized him. At the coroner's inquest he was judged guilty of manslaughter.

According to a contemporary account, 'Yesterday [27th November] the lord Mohun appeared upon his recognizance at the King's Bench bar, and there being an indictment of murther found against him by the grand jury of Middlesex for killing Capt Hill, the court committed him to prison in order to be tryed for the same.' His place of confinement was not to his liking or  suitable to his status, and on the 13th of December 'the lord Mohun petitioned the house of peers to be removed from the King's Bench where he was committed last term for the murder of Captain Hill, to the Tower, which was granted.'

This time, however, he avoided trial--most likely because he'd reached his majority. Now twenty-one, he was entitled to take his seat in the House of Lords, and the King needed his support. At the 11th hour he received a royal pardon, which he duly presented to the House. Within days he was seated with his fellow peers as a Whig lord with good reason to approve all of His Majesty's demands for additional war funding.

Never one to learn from past crimes, Mohun committed another in late October of the very same year:

On Sunday about 3 in the morning a quarrel happened at Locket's [a tavern] near Charing Crosse between Captain Coot [sic] son to Sir Richard Coot, and Mr French of the Temple, who thereupon went and fought in Leicester Feilds. The Earl of Warwick and Lord Mohun were for the first, and Captain James and Ensign Dockwra for the 2d. Coot was killed upon the spott, and it's said French dangerously wounded but made his escape with the rest.

The House chose to try Mohun and Warwick separately, but it was uncertain which of the five men present at the altercation had struck the fatal blow. In January Mohun returned to the Tower to await trial and remained there for several months. On 28th March, 1699, 'the earl of Warwick and lord Mohun were brought by the lord Lucas from the Tower to Westminster the axe being carried before them they are now on their tryalls on account of the death of captain Coot [sic] which is like to last long.' On that day the earl was convicted of manslaughter and given the mildest of punishments: a cold branding iron in the shape of 'F' for 'felon' was applied to his hand, leaving no permanent mark upon it. The following day Mohun was unanimously acquitted but received a severe warning from Lord Chancellor Somers that he could not expect mercy in future if he continued on his disastrous path.

In 1701 the Act of Settlement designated the Protestant Sophia, Electress of Hanover, and her heirs as William III's successors to England's crown. Lord Macclesfield was the King's choice to deliver a ceremonial copy of the decree, and Lord Mohun accompanied him to Hanover. Within days of their return to London, Mohun stood at his gravely ill friend's bedside. The earl's death on 4th November was followed by the discovery that he'd disinherited his entire family in Mohun's favour.



James, 4th Duke of Hamilton

As possessor of a fortune between £40-100,000 and now a visible, active, and useful member of the House of Lords, Mohun's problems ought to have been behind him. Unfortunately, he had an enemy--James, the Scottish 4th Duke of Hamilton, husband of another of Lord Macclesfield's nieces. The duke, in desperate financial need, felt entitled to Macclesfield's estate, and legal battles ensued. Bills were filed. Chancery suits were begun. The King died. A Queen was crowned. Under the new regime, Hamilton's sometime support of the Catholic Pretender did not work in his favour. As for Mohun--he was a Whig, and Queen Anne a staunch Tory.

In 1711, Mohun, by then a widower, took his mistress as his second wife. She was Elizabeth Griffith, widow of a colonel and a daughter of Sir Thomas Lawrence, a physician to the Queen. He had hardly installed her in his residence, Macclesfield House, than he departed it to take up lodgings in Great Marlborough Street.

Not until 8th February, 1712, was his inheritance dispute with Hamilton heard by the Committee of Privileges in the House of Lords. A tie vote resulted--Mohun voting in his own interests, Hamilton absent. When proxies were counted, Mohun prevailed in a vote of 40 to 36. And still they waited for the ruling from Chancery.

But it wasn't the courts that put an end to a dispute. It was, of course, a duel. Not a polite, mannerly affair between a pair of nobleman who deemed honour at risk. What occurred in Hyde Park on the early morning of 15th November was a brutal and decisive battle between bitter adversaries.

When the Duke of Hamilton, Lord Mohun, and Macartney [Mohun's second] came to the place agreed on them to fight, the Duke and Lord Mohun had no sooner drawn their swords than Macartney drew his, as Colonel Hamilton did the same . . . he [the Colonel] striking down Macartney's sword...closed with Macartney and took his sword from him, by which time Lord Mohun was down on the ground and His Grace upon him. The Colonel, the better to help the Duke up, flung both swords upon the ground . . . Macartney came with a sword in his hand, and gave a thrust into the duke's left breast . . . the Duke at the same time saying, I am wounded, and whilst the said Colonel Hamilton was helping him Macartney escaped.

A representation of the doubly fatal duel in Hyde Park

The stab wound to the duke's chest was superfluous; one of Mohun's blows had severed the artery in his wrist. The two enemies lay dead, their blood seeping into the grass.

The Colonel stood trial, was convicted of manslaughter, branded with the cold iron, and went free. General Macartney fled England and tried to exonerate himself through pamphlets. While in Europe he gained an ally in the future George I and wished to follow the new King to England. He sought to have his outlawed status altered in order to belatedly stand trial for his role in the duel.

Two years later, when the case was finally heard, Hamilton said he couldn't swear that the accused had actually murdered the duke. Macartney likewise received a non-branding and went free--as the bad baron had done so many times in the course of his duelling career.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Margaret Porter is the award-winning and bestselling author of twelve period novels, whose other publication credits include nonfiction and poetry. One notorious incident in which Lord Mohun participated appears in A Pledge of Better Times, her highly acclaimed novel of 17th century courtiers Lady Diana de Vere and Charles Beauclerk, 1st Duke of St. Albans. Margaret studied British history in the UK and the US. As historian, her areas of speciality are social, theatrical, and garden history of the 17th and 18th centuries, royal courts, and portraiture. A former actress, she gave up the stage and screen to devote herself to fiction writing, travel, and her rose gardens.
Connect with Margaret:
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon 

Gentlemanly Professions

by Maria Grace

The nuances of social class and what makes a gentleman a gentleman remains a perennial source of confusion for Austenesque and Regency readers. How these men provided a livelihood for themselves and their families proves even more bewildering as some gentlemen had a profession, others did not, some were wealthy, and some could find themselves in very dire straits.

Of Gentlemen and the Gentry

A gentleman was the lowest ranking member of a social class known as the landed gentry. The group was considered upper class, but definitely below the titled peers. The group included:

1. Baronet. A position created by King James in 1611, giving the person a hereditary title that passed to the eldest son, and the right to be addressed as "Sir."

2. Knight. Originally a military honor, it was increasingly used as a reward for service to the Crown. This was not a hereditary title.

3. Esquire/squire. Originally a title related to the battlefield, it included a squire or person aspiring to knighthood, an attendant on a knight. Later it was an honor that could be conferred by the Crown and included certain offices such as Justice of the Peace. A squire was often the principal landowner in a district.

4. Gentlemen. This started as a separate title with the Statute of Additions of 1413. It is used generally for a man of high birth or rank, good social standing, and of wealth.

This group was distinct from the middle class because they did not work for a living. Many were landowners who lived entirely off income generated from a home farm and numerous rented (tenanted) farms and cottages. Revenues from agricultural enterprises and rents were the primary source of gentleman's income.

Gentlemanly professions

In the 1800s the English laws of primogenitor, intended to preserve the integrity of large landed estates, made it a challenge for younger sons of the landed gentry to establish themselves in life. If their family did not possess an additional estate for them to inherit or they lacked some other relative to provide an inheritance, younger sons had little choice but to make their own way in the world. The question was how to do so and not lose their status as gentlemen.

Four professions offered them the opportunity to do so, the traditional ‘learned’ professions: the church, the law and medicine and services as a military officer. All required a significant investment in the way of education or purchase of a commission, and provided an income disconnected from sullying one’s hands with work.

Officers

In the Regency era, the highest status gentlemanly profession was a military officer, a position requiring a purchased commission. Though our modern sensibilities tend to be uncomfortable with the concept of buying a commission, in the Regency era, the belief was that paying for the rank meant that only men of fortune, character, and who had a real interest in the fate of the nation would be drawn to the military, thus reducing the number of unworthies serving in the officers' ranks. Moreover, since officers ‘owned’ their commission, they would be more responsible with their ‘property’ than someone with nothing to lose. Furthermore, private ownership of rank also implied that since officers did not owe their rank to the King, they would be less likely to be used by the King against the people.

Purchase of commissions also served a practical purpose. The price paid for a commission served as a sort of nest egg for the officer, returned to him when he ‘sold out’ and retired. Thus there was no need to provide pensions for retiring officers, a definite advantage to the crown.

These nest eggs were particularly necessary because army pay was enough to live on but not much more, particularly if one sought to maintain the standard of living of a wealthy family. In general, officers' honoraria (as gentlemen they did not take salaries) were just less than the amount of interest that could be earned by the cost of the commission. It was widely accepted that gentlemen should not profit from their military service. (Prize money, when it could be had was a different thing.) Many sons of wealthy parents who joined the army also had an allowance from their families that helped them to live in the style to which they had been accustomed. 

Clergy

The church was a particularly attractive option if a family had a living they could bestow as they chose. A living meant a guaranteed income and home for the lifetime of the clergyman lucky enough to be appointed to one. But what was a living and how did one manage to get appointed to one?

Two primary types of clergymen could be found in the Regency era, the vicar and the curate. Both required a university education - a standard honors degree from Cambridge or Oxford. Afterwards, the candidate needed a testimonial from his college vouching for his fitness for ordination. He then presented the testimonial to a bishop and made arrangements for an examination to prove his competency in Latin, knowledge of the Scripture, and familiarity with the liturgy and church doctrine as written in the 39 Articles. Once he passed the examination, he was considered qualified to administer the sacraments of the Church. His career would begin at age 23 as a deacon assisting an ordained priest. At 24 he could be fully ordained and eligible to be in charge of a parish and hopefully obtain a living.

To become a vicar, a man needed a living. A living was essentially a position in a parish church, funded by tithes and possibly other similar sources in the parish. It included a parsonage and often glebe lands that the vicar could farm himself or rent out for additional income. The surest way of procuring a living was to be related to the patron. A well-placed relative might mean he could walk into a living immediately after ordination. Less well-connected individuals could wait ten or twenty years for the opportunity. In the Regency period, once installed in a living a man was there for life. No one less than the bishop could remove him for cause. Thus, Mr. Collins’ deference to Lady Catherine in Pride and Prejudice could be considered quite misplaced, as she had no control over his livelihood after she appointed him to the living.

The right to appoint a living was called an advowson and was a piece of property considered part of an estate to be bought, sold and inherited. Typically an advowson sold for five to seven times the annual value of the living. Instead of selling an entire advowson, a gentleman strapped for cash might sell just the ‘right of next presentation’ as did Sir Thomas Bertram in Jane Austen's Mansfield Park. An extremely fortunate clergyman could own an advowson and appoint himself to a living.

Still, having a living did not guarantee the holder a life of wealth and ease. An 1802 figure suggests a third of the benefices brought in less than £150 a year and some 1,000 of those less than £100. (£50 a year was more or less equivalent to our minimum wage.) A clergyman needed an income £300-400 per annum to be on the level with the lesser gentry.

A vicar could resign his duties to a curate once he obtained the permission of his bishop. Many hired a curate, who would be paid out of the vicar’s own pocket, from the beginning of their incumbency.

A curate was usually a young man just recently ordained, who assisted or sometimes performed the duties of a clergyman. As members of the clergy, curates were regarded as gentlemen. Despite their official standing, the subservient nature of their position and their paltry incomes (as little as £50 per year, not enough to afford a maid) often caused some of the gentry and peers to hold them in disregard.

The Law

The law was a less distinguished profession than the military. Moreover, ‘livings’ did not exist for those outside the clergy, so a legal man’s salary might vary dramatically during his lifetime, making it somewhat less desirable, though less dangerous than the military and less prone to chance than obtaining a living.

In the practice of law, two sorts of professionals existed, the barrister and the solicitor. The barrister was essentially a trial lawyer and considered a gentleman. The solicitor dealt with other aspects of the law, like writing contracts and was considered a member of the middle class.

Becoming a barrister was an expensive proposition, costing as much as £2,000 . A young man typically went first to study at university, then would apply to one of the Inns of Court. The Inns of Court were the equivalent of a law school, but there was no specific curriculum. The students would study on their own and rub shoulders with established barristers and ‘eat their dinners’ with them. These dinners were actually dinner meetings which would include lectures or mock court sessions. At the end of three to five years, senior members of the Inn of Courts would determine who would go on to be called to the bar (present cases in court). Those not chosen could earn their livelihoods as solicitors, who usually only had five years' training as an apprentice clerk in a legal office.

Barristers were considered gentlemen because they were not paid a salary, but a gratuity. Clients approached solicitors for their need of a trial lawyer. Solicitors then came and offered the barrister a case. Solicitors acted as a go-between for the barristers and clients, taking a portion of the gratuity as their fee.

An established barrister earned £4,000 a year on average, with some making as much as £15,000. Barristers were also favored for government appointments and cabinet positions. With all the impediments to entry though, only a small number of barristers actually practiced. In 1810, less than 600 barristers existed to address the courts.

Doctor

The final and arguably least prestigious gentlemanly profession was medicine. As with lawyers, extensive training and apprenticeship were required to practice, and two social strata of practitioners existed, one a gentleman and one firmly middle class. Though occasionally physicians might be knighted, in general their profession did not bring them the notoriety or interaction with superior society that the other gentlemanly professions might afford.

Traditionally, many medical men practiced with little or no formal education. However, during the Regency era, medical schools attached to major hospitals developed. Many young aspiring physicians chose to train and qualify for the newly-established medical licenses by attending these. To be a physician, a young man studied and trained at a hospital. When his studies were complete, he would be considered a gentleman.

A surgeon, the equivalent of today’s general practitioner, treated everyday ailments of common people. His education was more apprentice than university training and he was considered, like the solicitor, part of the middle class.

A physician’s income would usually be considerably lower than that of a barrister. He typically made an adequate living, around £300, paid in gratuities, not fees for services rendered. A specialist, or consulting physician, or one who had rich patrons to keep him on a retainer might earn as much as £2,000.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Maria Grace is the author of Darcy's Decision,  The Future Mrs. Darcy, All the Appearance of Goodness, and Twelfth Night at Longbourn, Remember the Past, and Mistaking Her Character.  Click here to find her books on Amazon. For more on her writing and other Random Bits of Fascination, visit her website. You can also like her on Facebook, follow on Twitter or email her.

Shakespeare’s Reconstructed Globe Theater and Me (a sort of love story)

by Stephanie Cowell

The reconstructed Globe Theater, Bankside, London

For the longest time I wanted to go home, but it was a place I could only travel in my mind. Nothing remained of it in London: only a plaque on a brewery wall. And well over three hundred years had passed since it had been callously destroyed.

It was the famous Globe Theater in Bankside on the Thames, raised up by a group of young actors in 1599 in the last few years of Queen Elizabeth’s life. One of the actors was the vibrant Will Shakespeare and the stage saw the first performance of his play Hamlet. He was long dead when the Puritans pulled the Globe down because they thought theater and pretty much of everything else was immoral. But so many years after the theater had been gutted, it rose again on the banks of the Thames thanks to a visionary American actor Sam Wanamaker who dedicated his life to doing it.


In 1949, Sam Wanamaker crossed the ocean and visited the site of the original Globe, finding only that time-darkened plaque. Sam was one of many actors blacklisted during the McCarthy era and moved to England. He worked as an actor there but never lost his passion to reconstruct the Globe and began seriously to campaign for it in 1969.It took 25 years but he never looked back. He enlisted theater people and people who could give money and in 1993 construction began on the New Globe Theater a short distance from the original site which was now under a building.

Visionary actor Sam Wanamaker who recreated the Globe

They did it with great care. A study was made of what was known of the construction of The Theater, the building from which the 1599 Globe obtained much of its timber and of other theatrical documents from the period. The architect was Theo Crosby and construction was done by McCurdy & Co. The modern theater has a circular yard, a thrust stage and three tiers of circular seating. The only covered parts are the stage and the seating areas. Those who choose to stand may be rained upon! Plays are given between May and early October and you can tour it year round. There is no amplification now as there was none in 1599. The theater is constructed entirely of English oak; it is an authentic 16th century timber-framed building with no structural steel used. The seats are plain hard benches and the roof is thatched.

My first novel (on Kindle)

In spring of 1993, I had my first novel coming out about an Elizabethan boy who becomes an actor (Nicholas Cooke: actor, soldier, physician,priest) and I went to London hoping to see the newly recreated theater. I saw one fourth of it. It had taken twenty years or so for Sam to get enough support to build this much and they were trying to raise enough money for the rest. His assistant, Mrs. Blodgett, gave me a tour. “Sam’s not here,” she said. “He’s always off somewhere trying to get some wealthy person to give English oak!” So I returned to America, sent him an advance copy of my book, and he wrote me back how much he liked it.

He died in December that year, never to see the complete rising of his new Globe. I was never to meet him but he knew before he died that that the theater would live again.

In 1997, four years after Sam’s death, I traveled to London with my husband to see The Merchant of Venice at the completed Globe. All those of you who love English history, and have spent much of your life recreating it in your mind through what you read or write, will understand that when I walked through those doors and saw the rising galleries and the stage I felt faint. I was choked with tears. It was as if it were waiting for me. I almost expected the handsome Shakespeare, then in his thirties and sporting one gold earring, to rush up to me and say, “Where have you been? We’ve been waiting for you!”

Marcello Magniin the clown in MERCHANT

The Italian clown jumped into the groundings (those who stood in the pit) and teased and joked with them.

Thanks to a visionary actor we do not only have a weather-worn plaque on a brewery to commemorate the theater now, but the theater itself has risen again from the ashes. Shakespeare, if he walked in it, would be surprised by the sprinkler system under the thatched roof and the lighted exit signs (concessions to modern building safety code) but I think he would feel at home. Sam Wanamaker’s Globe is a grand and vivid testimony to what those of us who love English history will do to bring it back to life again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About the author: Historical novelist Stephanie Cowell is the author of Nicholas Cooke, The Physician of London, The Players: a novel of the young Shakespeare, Marrying Mozart and Claude & Camille: a novel of Monet.  She is the recipient of the American Book Award. Her work has been translated into nine languages. Stephanie is currently finishing two novels, one on the love story of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning, and the second about the year Shakespeare wrote Hamlet and all the troubles he had! Her website is http://www.stephaniecowell.com